


I Like That You're Broken (Maybe That Makes Me A Fool)

by blueaurora



Series: take the risk, taste me [2]
Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bikers, Biker AU, Bittersweet Ending, Friends With Benefits, Heavy Angst, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, Mild Smut, Non Linear Narrative, Toxic Relationship, this hurts on another level
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:32:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23463964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueaurora/pseuds/blueaurora
Summary: Wooyoung saved Yeosang at 00:09, hearts beating and breaking together at such an odd hour.
Relationships: Jung Wooyoung/Kang Yeosang
Series: take the risk, taste me [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1687042
Comments: 6
Kudos: 64





	I Like That You're Broken (Maybe That Makes Me A Fool)

**Author's Note:**

> so  
> I decided to turn this into a series <3
> 
> disclaimer: read tags, the relationship displayed here is a little toxic.
> 
> [ ❁ ] tittle from broken by lovelytheband (listen to it after reading)

**_— 00:09_ **

Yeosang runs the tip of his nose all over Wooyoung's calm chest and wonders when did life become so difficult. 

Was it when he was fifteen, knees bruised and eyes filled with all the tears he had been dropping since his classmates pushed him for the first time into the ground? 

Or was it when he turned nineteen, knees bruising the dirty floor of some club's bathroom, eyelids fluttering as he looked up to Wooyoung, fingers keeping him down so softly he didn't mind the pain at all? 

He doesn't know. Memories sinking so deep within himself that they blur and twist and by when midnight arrives, bedroom floor covered in the sweaty clothes he wore all day, the only thing blooming in his mind, is Wooyoung. 

Wooyoung saved him from hell, fingers so sweetly wrapping around his wrist and pulling from him. Late at night, giggles hidden behind by the purr of the engines, lips crashing against each other in what he remembers the best night of his life. The night he thought everything was coming to the sweet end. The night he finally was set free, but not in the way he had rooted and bloomed in his mind for months. 

Honey under his lips when he stands on his elbows to observe Wooyoung, breathing so slowly he always thinks he is already sound asleep, sailing the sea of soft dreams where they both hold hands without fear, without pain. Eyes finding him in the glowing dark everytime. For a reason, Yeosang goes to sleep every night being certain that deep inside that illusion, Wooyoung is in love with him. 

Real love.

The same love that brought them together on a rainy day, the same rainy day he tried to run away from everything with just a little jump. Wooyoung took his hand and made him fly from Earth, but not in the way he thought. He did it with love. Yeosang _knows_ it.

Desire running through their veins since the first second. Open mouthed kisses and loud whimpering, chests hitting and exploding in fire. Yeosang's body moving towards him, as if it held the remembrance of Wooyoung's body within his soul. Every centimeter of his skin, Yeosang had it memorized way before they fucked for the first time. On the back seat of Hongjoong's car where Wooyoung always likes to run away to think, loud music engulfing him, and the same place he took Yeosang at 00:09.

The smell of roses dripping from his neck as they got rid of their clothes for the first time, kissing desperately but undressing each other with such slowness that had Yeosang feeling the highest he had ever been. Nails scratching skin and curses coming out from fire coated lips. Wooyoung's chest opening in front of him like an ocean he could drown in, and he kind of did, hot tongue trailing a way over his chest, abdomen, reaching his crotch and feeling the fire on his lungs as he reached rock bottom, lack of oxygen making him woozy, Wooyoung's moans and whimpers making him sink deeper. 

How his hips lifted towards him with every bop of his head and trembled beneath him, having Yeosang warm. Knees on the dirty floor, painfully squeezed behind the driver's seat. 

The touch of his hands as he threaded his fingers into the tangle of his head to bring him closer. The feeling of his abdomen into his nose, smooth, closing his eyes tightly, crying out in silence. Because it was too much for him to take, but it was so _soft,_ so _warm_ , he couldn't just stop. So he sank his nails into the skin of his thighs until he was bleeding. Or Wooyoung was.

The sound of his voice, hoarse and demanding, as they changed positions and the mess Yeosang was became even messier with two fingers seeking for his soul, a mouth glued to his neck and some happy sound blasting through the speakers, lyrics not that _happy._ "You're so fucking good to me, Yeosang," dripping so slowly, so low, so hypnotic Yeosang threw his head back and rocked his hips. Taking him, always taking him. Because Wooyoung saved him.

Wooyoung _saved_ him.

Wooyoung gave him a _home._

Yeosang would jump in front of a bullet for Wooyoung, even if it was the same Wooyoung the one pulling off the trigger. 

Yeosang gave and still gives everything Wooyoung asks for.

Sometimes, when he wakes up at 11 in the morning and he can't barely move his body, when his legs don't respond for his brain's commands and his lower back begs for sweet death, when his skin is covered in dark hickies, fingers pressed and bite marks, Yeosang wants to cry. 

It's for a second. A cold second where he misses the time when he hadn't met Wooyoung, the time where he was starting to break, but he wasn't as torn out as he is now. 

"Ride me?" Wooyoung would say at 00:09, smile so sweet and eyes so big, begging Yeosang for a short seconds even when he perfectly knows how tight he has him wrapped around his tattoed finger, making Yeosang scream internally. 

That his life became so goddamn difficult. That he maybe prefers the bullies making his life miserable and all the bruises on his knees for the asfalt scratching and not because Wooyoung wants him to take his dick in the middle of San's first birthday party with them.

But at the same time, smiling so slightly Wooyoung doesn't notice, crawling on four until he reaches his spot on the bed, that he adores how difficult it is. He _craves_ it. And he will always give Wooyoung whatever he wants.

Holding his face close as he preps him fast and biting his lip, heavy breathing all over his face as he, obviously, rides him hard and deep and desperate. Almost like he is trying to take every bad thing hurting inside of his body so they can cuddle at nine in the morning. Gasping as Wooyoung curses into his mouth, praises into his skin, begs him to go faster, Yeosang realizes it's gonna take a time to take everything out. 

Even when he has been doing this for years.

And 00:10 seems to take forever to reach that tiny room where he grow lonelier each passing day, even when Wooyoung is always there.

  
  


**_— 18:33_ **

Wooyoung was in love before, way before he fell for Yeosang. Never asking for his name, never speaking about him as they make a symphony out of the sound of their bodies becoming one for a sweet couple of minutes. But always on Yeosang's head as they bump into each other in their shared apartment when the sun is still up and both of them are wearing clothes. 

The leather jacket on Wooyoung's shoulders making him look smaller than he already is, the cigarette laying on his finger consuming there as fast as the boy is doing on the couch. Yeosang wearing nothing but sparkly makeup and a hoodie, looking at him as he lays his body on the jam of the kitchen's door. Wondering if Wooyoung cried.

When he lost his boyfriend.

If Wooyoung was scared.

When his own body fell from the motorbike in the middle of a race and flew metres away, ribs broken and blood dripping from his lips.

If Wooyoung's soul broke.

When the person he loved the most vanished in just a second. In front of his eyes, in a red puddle of danger. The same person he knew that wouldn't last forever in a world who's chant is _ride and die._

When the sun is up, Yeosang is glad he met Wooyoung. He drags his feet from the kitchen to the couch and kneels in front of him. Cheek pressed tightly to the place where his heart lays. Slow, calm, almost like it's taking its last shots of air before turning into an echo. 

And Yeosang can't help but cry in silence, letting Wooyoung thread his fingers on his hair, humming a sweet lullaby for him.

Being friends with benefits because bikers don't have lovers. Because if you love someone, letting go will always break your heart. But if you don't, you're already letting go.

Pieces still together. 

But not Yeosang's. 

Yeosang was already shattering when Wooyoung stood behind him and nicely asked him to jump, but not towards the water. 

Wooyoung is the one keeping all his pieces together, and the only thing Yeosang is doing, is trying to keep him from letting go.

  
  


**_— 4:11_ **

When Wooyoung races, Yeosang does his makeup. He does everyone's makeup, a little sparkly so they can be stars on the street and not in the sky, a silent hope for them all to come home late at night. 

He also does San's makeup, even when they always stay. Heart in one hand, stupidly falling for the wrong people. At least, San knows he is playing with fire— No, San totally runs into fire, not scared.

Yeosang stands alone waiting for Wooyoung to sneak in his bed and kiss his belly button until he is opening his eyes, and also his legs.

Everytime Wooyoung wins a race, the sex turns sweet and calm. So slow Yeosang doesn't have time to think, thoughts dying in the pit of pleasure that opens on the small of his abdomen as Wooyoung holds him steady with one hand and thrusts slow. Tasting every moan from his mouth, enjoying the time. Hours in bed, not fucking, but making love, Yeosang likes to think. Wooyoung kissing him and giggling and looking at him like he has been waiting for him all his life. For the type of love that makes him forget about the adrenaline from racing, because that love is double the risk. And just on top of Yeosang, black sweaty hair splattering like a mess, glitter on his cheeks, smile on his lips creating one of the most beautiful masterpieces Yeosang had ever laid his eyes in, he smells like future. 

But when he loses, it's different. 

Wooyoung rides him instead, moving so fast Yeosang is crying first. But Wooyoung is also crying on top of him, and deep down, Yeosang knows it has nothing to do with the race he lost. 

Yeosang really tries to kiss all that pain away, the pain that has been following him around for so long it's impossible to draw a line between it and Wooyoung. Even when Yeosang is the first one hurting, he still pulls him into the mattress and kisses his tears. His lips. His neck. His abdomen. His thighs. Trying to steal as much time as possible, trying to _heal_ something he can reach with his fingers. Even when he tries, moving slowly, Wooyoung's body around him always taking him like some stranger and breaking his heart. But Yeosang doesn't give up.

He might have given up on life long ago, when he was eighteen and scared of being lonely, but he will never give up on Wooyoung. Whatever it takes.

With three fingers inside Wooyoung is already clenching his jaws and searching for his other hand over the sweaty and dirty sheets and squeezing. Yeosang lightly kisses his abdomen. 

Being inside Wooyoung always feels like he is invading someone else's house. They move differently as how they do when Wooyoung is the one pounding into his flesh. Yeosang biting the inside of his cheek and making it sweet, caressing his skin and going slow. One minute later Wooyoung is rocking his hips to fuck himself into him, so Yeosang closes his eyes and just for the night, he goes hard. Feelings in the paper bin and thrusting harder.

Wooyoung is loud in bed, but Yeosang's thoughts are always louder.

"I love you, Wooyoung."

He knows the look that soaks his face, how he opens his eyes all of sudden and the air gets stuck on his chest with a loud gasp. How the hair sticks to his forehead, dark and sweaty, how the fear fills up his darker eyes. Yeosang smiles at him, and because he knows that, he pounds even harder without waiting for the answer that will never arrive.

Cumming at the same time making his heart swell, Wooyoung leaving right after tearing a hole in his chest. 

Feelings empty at four in the morning, curling on dirty sheets.

  
  


**_— 16:57_ **

The only time Wooyoung takes Yeosang into his bike, is to buy the snacks they both like to share at six in the afternoon. 

Feeling the summer breeze on his nape and naked arms always has Yeosang feeling like things will be alright. Even if his heart is nothing but dust caged inside of ribs, because the ribs are covered in flowers that still share oxygen with his lungs. So even if he doesn't own a heart anymore, he is still able to throw his head back and take the summer inside that dark and lonely chest.

And the summer always brings Wooyoung's smell with it. 

"Do you ever regret kissing me?" Yeosang asks, both of them sitting over the curb, eating popsicles. 

Right there, they don't look as broken as they are. Wooyoung wearing tight jeans but an oversized shirt, hair waved by the breeze and lips turned up. He looks so beautiful under the sun. Like a summer daydream.

And Yeosang is falling in love all over again. Forgetting the pain echoing on his rib cage and just tasting the sweet risk that falling in love with a broken soul was.

"Never," Wooyoung shakes his head. "Don't ask me that type of things. You make me look like the bad dude."

"You are, Woo," Yeosang is giggling without knowing why, looking at the asfalt breaking beneath his wasted vans, invaded by gloom. The same ones Wooyoung gifted him when he turned twenty. Because he lasted another year, Wooyoung said that time. "You really are."

"I don't want to hear it from you, Sang," when Yeosang looks back to him, Wooyoung's expression has twisted in some mix of pain and regret, but his smile is still there. Always there. "You are the best thing that ever happened to me."

Yeosang stares at him. For a second, a distant heartbeat making him gasp. 

"Then why do you fuck me like I mean nothing?" 

Wooyoung looks down, clicking his tongue. And soon, he is moving closer, one hand cupping his face, thumb running all over the birthmark that lays there. 

"You know why." 

"Whatever you tried, it didn't work," Yeosang says shortly. "Because I fell for you. I fell for you the same day we met. But you keep on breaking my heart with each passing day." 

"Yeosang," it's just a whisper. 

"I love you," he repeats for who knows how time just this month. "I will stupidly love you even if you're not here anymore. I will love you until there's no more love for me to give you, and even then, I will keep on loving you. I will keep on _destroying_ myself, because I can't stand not breathing the same air you breathe. I won't stop, ever."

Wooyoung squeezes his eyes shut in front of him for a moment, summer exploding around them when he lets his head fall on top of Yeosang's shoulder. And soon, arms wrapping around his body, pulling him into a hug.

Unexpectedly, hearts beating at the same slow pace.

"I can't lose you too," Wooyoung cries out. 

"You won't."

"Eventually, I will. I have blood on my hands Yeosang."

"You _don't,_ " Yeosang is soon pulling him closer, eyes getting lost in the orange sky that sparks in front of them. Something tragic but sweet at the same time creeping over his back, blooming right from where Wooyoung's fingers lay. "What happened was an accident. Stop blaming yourself for something you didn't do." 

Wooyoung scoffs.

"I don't blame me for his death. I blame me because I don't have the power to protect anyone. This world is dark, Sangie. You can't imagine how good you feel racing for your life, how fucking amazing is to have the money in your hands. But how reckless you become. I don't even have the chance to protect, and you don't deserve this."

"I tried to kill myself, Woo."

"Exactly for that. If I let you in and then you disappear again..."

"You're being selfish," Yeosang spits. "You wouldn't doubt on running towards me if I was in danger, you just don't want to feel guilty if I die. Because you love me, to the point of dying for me. And you try so hard to not love me, pretending that my death wouldn't rip a hole in your heart."

Wooyoung moves back, shaking his head. When he looks into Yeosang's eyes, he looks more broken than ever.

"What's wrong with what we have?"

Yeosang's head is loud again. The only thing wrong with that game they started playing three years ago is that they have everything at once, but nothing at all at the same time. It's like reaching out his hand for him and getting nothing back.

It's just sex, and Yeosang is tired of _just_ sex.

Life is complicated, still.

"Nothing," he lies, gaze again on the floor. "I just wanted you to know I'm willing to move past taking your dick and not your heart."

There's something pure in the way Wooyoung is broken, and Yeosang is also broken. They were shattered when they met, and they keep on breaking in front of each other with every sigh. And to finally meet and know and feel someone as broken as him, makes Yeosang nothing but a fool.

He is kissing Wooyoung hard against the pavement just a few minutes after, tasting the lemon sizzling on his tongue. There's still something wholesome in the way their bodies fit incredibly wrong, but the broken pieces, _oh damn,_ they fit perfectly with each other. 

  
  


**_— 8:45_ **

When Seonghwa disappears, San bitterly weeps. In front of them. For the first time in two months, breaking so beautifully Yeosang finds it sweet. But he also punches Wooyoung, and that makes Yeosang envy him. Both for being able to punch Wooyoung and for loving so deep without fear sparking on his skin. Taking the fear, the risk and the cigarettes and turning them into the most beautiful love song.

Laying in bed together early in the morning, Yeosang finds another first time with Wooyoung. Clothes on, even shoes on, sharing words for once.

"Life's not a love song, isn't it?" He speaks into existence, and maybe Yeosang also weeps in silence. "He is totally dead, Seonghwa _is dead_ , Yeosang. And look at San, he is broken. Do you get what I mean now?"

Yeosang shakes his head over the pillow, using his legs as an impulse, sitting. Shirt falling over one shoulder, incredibly tired to be nine in the morning. 

"He is broken because he loves him."

"That's what I mean."

"You mean that we should live our lives without love just in case we end up breaking. But, Woo, have you ever stopped to think how fast loneliness can kill you?" Yeosang looks at him through his lashes, Wooyoung staring into his soul. "Because I can _fucking_ assure it's worse." 

"It will never top the feeling of not being able to protect the ones you _love._ "

"It does," Yeosang covers his lips with one hand. "Because loneliness comes when you isolate yourself, and also when you lose someone. Don't you see it? You avoid it, you still break. It's stupid."

Yeosang closes his eyes and lays back, fingers already pinching the bridge of his nose. Opening them to stare at the clean ceiling, he is tired. Once again, tired of bikers. Of the world he stepped in. And above all, he is tired of Wooyoung looking at him like he means the fucking world to him, when he won't open his mouth to say it.

"We can try," his voice is just a whisper against his lips, Wooyoung closing his eyes and so sweetly inhaling his words. "We can try to fix each other. We really can, Woo."

Yeosang hasn't changed. 

Is stupid, but he will take a bullet from him without hesitation. He will take off his clothes in just a second and ride his stress away without complains. He will open every door of his body for him to enter and find a home (the home Yeosang is dying in desires to give him).

The difference now is that he will fight. That he won't keep his words anymore.

He will love Wooyoung loud and fast and hard and deep, just like he fucks him. 

"I really wanna spend the rest of my life with you, Sangie," Wooyoung bemoans. "But I can't have you on my head when I'm racing. Because you are able to pull from every string that keeps me still, and melt me. I just can't lose myself to you," a pause, Wooyoung kissing him so slowly time seems to freeze. "I don't even think I have a big _rest of my life_ awaiting for us to live happily ever after."

Maybe, at nine in the morning of a Sunday where San cried for the first time since Seonghwa left, Yeosang notices how toxicity has taken hold of his brain. Since the first brush of fingers on his arm and the last bruised knees on the bathroom floor. And, like how they always meet at odd hours, they're not meant to be a pair. 

Yet, he doesn't care. 

Wooyoung cares less.

As long as Wooyoung doesn't admit it out loud, they will still find each other's arms late at night. Going back to the back seat of Hongjoong's car where Yeosang first learned that love can also scratch his knees.

And also going back to that night he stood into the bridge, one minute away from jumping into the calm waters that would've became his bed for eternity. The night Wooyoung stopped his bike next to him and, even when he promised to never bring a lost boy into the races again, saved him at 00:09.

  
  


**_— 00:10_ **

Yeosang runs the tip of his nose over Wooyoung's calm chest and wonders…

… why the fuck did he take the wrong way and chose to make his life so goddamn complicated? 

**Author's Note:**

> the way this feels different to the sanhwa one is because the narrative is based on how the characters see the world. sanhwa share the same dark poetic way, meanwhile yeosang is drowning in depression and loneliness. I hope you noticed and thanks for reading!


End file.
